by Gian Bordin
"I would like you to stay, Lady Chiara," begged Luigi.
"There you see. Everybody wants you to stay."
Almost everybody, except your wife. "My Lord, I am gratified by your concern for my health. I minor cut hardly needs rest. It will heal while I ride. I have four friends who are anxiously waiting for me and may need my help. There is still Casa Sanguanero looking for us."
"But you cannot ride alone. It is too dangerous. I cannot let you go."
She smiled. "My Lord, are you going to retain me against my will?"
Lady Maria cut in. "Please, Lord Baglione, don’t challenge her again. There is no telling what she might do. I have learned that it is no use to argue with this stubborn young woman, or ask her not to do anything dangerous. What I consider dangerous, she may see as mere trifle. If she has made up her mind to go, she will go."
A twinkle appeared in his eyes as he briefly looked at Chiara before answering: "I defer to your judgement, Lady Maria. It is though a pity that we will already be deprived of her company."
"My Lord, if you permit me, I will come and visit you with my troupe in Perugia in the not too distant future."
"Please do grace us with your presence. You are welcome anytime."
Again she noted his wife’s displeased face. She does not like me.
* * *
To her surprise, Lord Baglione greeted her when she came into the courtyard the following morning. His son and daughter, as well as a number of his retainers stood behind him. She was touched by this gesture, since she had already taken leave from him and his family the evening before. Mercurio, a proud grin on his face, was holding her mare with all her things and weapons attached to the saddle.
Lord Baglione pointed at three horses, each one held by a guard. "Lady Chiara, here are your other horses. They are yours by right."
They were the horses of the fallen retainers, their weapons again attached to their empty saddles. Farther back a dozen mounted guards, with the Baglione banners flying, waited in formation.
She looked disconcerted at the display. "My Lord, this is very generous of you … and I am at a loss of what to say."
"That is unlike you, Lady Chiara," he replied, enjoying her surprise.
She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Sir, I would be grateful to you if you gave this horse and the weapons," she pointed at the one to the right, "to Ser Piero’s son, in honor of his valiant father. I —"
The loud cries of "Bravo, bravo" of the guardsmen interrupted her. She acknowledged them briefly by nodding in their direction. "I accept the one in the middle, but without its weapons. It will allow me to change horses and ride faster. You may offer the third as a prize to your guardsmen at the upcoming archery competition." This was greeted with renewed hurrays.
"Lady Chiara, you may have been briefly lost for words, but never for surprises, and I have learned that your requests are always thoughtful and wise. It will be done as you said."
He assisted her into the saddle, while the guard removed the weapons from the middle horse, a fine stallion.
"An escort will ride with you to Ponte Valiano."
"Thank you again, my Lord, for all your kindness."
He bowed. She waved to the assembly that had swollen manifold, took hold of the reins of the spare horse Mercurio held out to her, and turned her steed. "Thank you, Mercurio, until next time."
"Until next time, Lady Chiara, and don’t be too harsh on the guards."
She laughed and heard Lord Baglione ask: "What do you mean, Messer Mercurio?"
"When you see the blistering pace she hits, you will know."
She put her horse into a canter, and the escort hurried to fall in behind.
"God be with you, Chiara," she heard Lady Maria’s call over the noise of the hooves on the cobblestones.
22
Cetona, February 1350
My new family welcomed the news of peace with Casa Baglione of Perugia. with joy and relief. Jacomo’s grin stretched from ear to ear when he heard how I had won over Luigi’s father to let his son study law and that, should he study in Perugia, they would welcome him in their midst.
Alda had completely recovered from pneumonia and Jacomo from his wound. All that remained was a small scar, but no restriction on the movement of his right arm.
When Contessa d’Appiano passed through Monte Pulciano on her way back to Piombino, she summoned me to visit her. She again chided me for not thinking of marriage, now that my name had been drawn to the attention of most top Tuscan noble houses and merchants and prospective candidates were already knocking at her door — somehow it had become known that she was acting in loco parentis. She also reported that Casa Sanguanero of Siena had collapsed — I achieved what I had set out to do — that Filippo Baglione had taken over the Pisa branch, and that Niccolo had retreated to Elba. Even that small threat of revenge had receded.
I Magnifici were getting ready to go on the road again. But before that, I wanted to explore what that treasure was all about. By now, I had a pretty good guess that it must be an Etruscan burial site. So we got ready to excavate it. Although my father had left it undisturbed, I reasoned that sooner or later it would be discovered and that I might as well save valuable objects from being plundered and possibly damaged or destroyed.
* * *
On the first mild day, the five of them took the road to Chiusi, from where they would continue to Cetona, almost twice the distance than taking the track over the hills to Sarteano. However, it allowed them to make use of the cart. Alda and Veronica sat on it, protected from the worst shaking by layers of cushions, while Pepe guided. Jacomo and Chiara rode the other two horses. The donkey was left to fend for itself. By late afternoon, they took the only room offered in Cetona’s taverna. Ser Paolo greeted Chiara and Jacomo like old acquaintances. She paid for new straw to be brought to make sure they would not be bitten by fleas. After a juicy roast of lamb for dinner, spiked with lots of garlic, they joined the locals for an evening of song and drinks, paid by Chiara.
Next morning they climbed up to the terrace, their excuse to survey the property, have a look at the little chapel, and enjoy the view. Ser Paolo packed them a generous lunch of bread, sausages, and wine. Alda rode on Chiara’s horse, Veronica on Jacomo’s, while the third horse without a saddle carried two baskets with tools, a sword, a hammer, a saw, a short shovel, ropes and two torches, as well as their lunch. They passed the shepherd on the way up and talked to him at length.
It was hard work to free the area from the brambles. They stopped for lunch, enjoying the view over the valley. By early afternoon, much later than expected, they had removed the stones and debris, and cleared the corner where the entrance was supposed to be. An old stone wall butted against the higher ground behind it. Pepe inspected the wall carefully for loose stones that could be removed to find an entrance. They all fitted together tightly, firmly mortared in place. In spite of its obvious age, well over a thousand years, the wall was still solid and intact.
"Maybe the whole thing is an elaborate hoax," grinned Alda, "and you two fell for it, gullibly."
"Possible, but I doubt it. First, my father told me just before he died that the dispute over the ownership of this treasure was the cause of the quarrel between Casa Sanguanero and Casa da Narni. Second, my father had two beautiful Etruscan vases and Etruscans lived in this area. As I said before, it’s probably a burial site. They buried the cinders of their dead together with jewelry and amphoras and other containers, presumably containing food and objects they might need in the afterlife."
"So what do you suggest doing now?" asked Pepe.
"There are several things we could do," interjected Jacomo. "We could try to make a hole in the wall, remove stones, break them and pry them away, or we could also dig down behind the wall."
"If it is the right place, we would find a ceiling to the chamber or corridor below. Remember that in Chiusi they found long underground passages leading to chambers. Trying to break through tha
t ceiling could though damage what is underneath."
"But we would at least discover if the wall hides the entrance."
"True … though I’m for searching first some more —"
"Maybe the entrance is not through the wall, but through the floor," suggested Veronica.
Chiara smiled at her. "Right, Veronica, I was just going to suggest that. Maybe access is through a plate hidden under this dirt."
"Then let’s clear the floor," exclaimed Jacomo. He instantly went on his knees and started scraping away the earth and other debris. The others joined in. They unearthed a floor made of uneven stones, some slightly concave, others flat slabs, none much larger than could be covered by two outstretched hands with the thumbs still touching. What at first glance looked like a random pattern, on closer inspection revealed itself as the corner of an intricate geometric design.
"None of these slabs is large enough for an opening," remarked Pepe.
"It could be several," replied Jacomo. "We need to free them of dirt."
They went down again on their knees, cleaning away all dirt between the stones with sticks. Wielding the hammer as a lever, Pepe forced off several of the smaller concave stones about two feet from the corner, and Jacomo chiseled away the mortar that had held them in place.
"Doesn’t it sound hollow underneath?" queried Chiara.
"Yes, it does." He pointed at the two adjacent plates and exclaimed: "Look, this is one big slab
"— made to look like two smaller ones," interrupted Chiara. "A clever disguise. I think we found the entrance."
Pepe now pried away all the smaller stones around it, revealing a square slab about two feet wide, while Jacomo removed all mortar. There were even two indentations along one edge to allow the slab to be levered open. But that in itself was a major undertaking. After several failed attempts, they managed to lift the heavy cover and rested it against the wall. Six tall, narrow steps led to the bottom. Lying flat on the ground, Chiara put her head down into hole. All she could see was the beginning of a low tunnel.
Pepe and Jacomo lit a torch. "Who goes in first?" asked Pepe.
"I will," answered Chiara.
She climbed down the six steps, and Jacomo passed her the torch. The tunnel was no more than five feet high. Bending low, she entered the narrow corridor. Its walls and arched roof were made of regular rectangular sandstone blocks. The light only penetrated some twenty feet before it dissolved in gloom. She advanced slowly. After maybe thirty feet, the corridor bent to the right, and she found herself at the entrance to the chamber. She stepped inside and could stand straight. She was in an eight-foot high narrow vault, no more than fifteen feet long. Its walls and curved ceiling were also formed by huge sandstone blocks. In its center stood a rectangular object on squat legs, similar to a wooden crib. On the side facing her, the figure of a horse was painted, its long tail reaching to the ground, its mane trimmed and patterned. Around it, eight amphoras of various sizes formed a half circle. Three smaller vessels lay in a small alcove at the far end. Several vases reminded her of the two that had been in the hall in Nisporto and which she had last seen in the loggia of Casa Sanguanero. She wondered what had become of them, now that Casa Sanguanero had gone bankrupt.
She must have looked at the scene spellbound for several minutes when she heard Jacomo’s voice calling her and suddenly noticed the depressing foul air. She crept backward and climbed out, filling her lungs with fresh air.
"And?" Alda expressed the question in everybody’s mind.
"It’s a funeral crypt. There’s a small sarcophagus and several vases," she answered, between deep breaths.
"No gold or precious stones?" Alda asked again.
"I don’t know, but I doubt it."
"So not much of a treasure?"
"Not in that sense, but each of the vases is worth hundreds of florins, I guess, if not more."
Jacomo had already climbed down and was disappearing in the corridor. Shortly afterwards they heard his muffled cries of wonder. After a few minutes he came back out, also gasping fresh air.
"I looked at the vases. Some have intricate drawings on it and are so big, we might have trouble getting them out and the sarcophagus may be too long, as well as too heavy."
"Yes, I can’t wait to admire the vases by daylight, and I guess that the sarcophagus was put there before the ceiling was closed."
"So whoever built this, covered it up later so that it looked like part of the hill —"
"— yes, to hide it and prevent it from being plundered."
"And are we going to plunder it?" asked Alda, mockingly.
"Yes, it might as well be us," Chiara replied, grinning.
"It’s on her land, Alda. Don’t give her a hard time," interjected Pepe.
"But Alda is right. It’s still plundering a grave.… It will take us at least half a day to get everything out, and then we need several big basket and mules to carry it down to our cart."
"We’ll have to do it tomorrow," remarked Pepe, "it’s too late now. I’ll have a look too."
Veronica also wanted to see it, but Alda declined. "I don’t like enclosed spaces, thanks."
Pepe suggested that they should go back to Cetona and return the next day with more baskets.
"Oh, no Pepe," protested Chiara, "I won’t leave this treasure alone overnight, just to discover that somebody else cleaned it out already. I’ll spend the night here, guarding it. Jacomo, will you stay with me? I think there’s enough food left for us for tonight."
He nodded. "Definitely."
"Pepe, you take Alda and Veronica down to the taverna and then come up tomorrow again … bring us a healthy breakfast."
"You really think that somebody might come up here during the night?" wondered Pepe.
"Possibly. The shepherd may have seen us. He’s a very curious man and he might tell somebody, or even try to steal something himself."
"Then maybe I should stay here too."
"No, I think two of us are enough. I would rather that you bring baskets up, as well as the blankets to protect the vases. I guess you’ll have to buy baskets. We need at least six, and you now know what sizes are needed."
"But it still gets chilly at night. You’ll be cold," said Alda.
"Don’t worry, Alda," replied Jacomo, "we’ll have a small fire going to keep us warm."
"Pepe, how about leaving us two of the horse blankets?"queried Chiara. "It won’t harm them to be without for a short time."
He immediately retrieved them from under the saddle of hers and Jacomo’s horses.
"And what do we tell Ser Paolo, if he wants to know where you two are?"
"That we have gone to Sarteano or whatever you like and would be back tomorrow. When you go looking for baskets, he will guess what we were doing. He may already know from the shepherd."
* * *
The sun had disappeared behind Monte Cetona by the time Pepe and the two women started their descent.
"Jacomo, I’ll have another look." There was no need to tell him to be on the lookout for any unwanted visitors.
The air down there felt much better. This time she ventured into the vault itself. The sarcophagus was almost two feet long and a foot high and wide. Its cover was still in place. She recognized it as terra cotta. All four sides and its cover carried black paintings of animals and people. She had never seen the likes of it, but her father had once described a similar cinerary urn that he had seen in Rome. She wondered whether they would be able to get it out. Four amphoras were of similar size and design as the ones her father had displayed on Elba, two forming another pair, while the other four were smaller vases, each different in shape, but all carried intricate geometric patterns. In the alcove was a carved ivory goblet, a terra cotta pitcher, a delicately sculptured crater half filled with gemstones. She recognized two amber stones, a couple of garnets, an obsidian, an amethyst, an agate, and several tourmaline stones. In her mind, she already saw the places in Castello Nisporto where some of the vessels cou
ld be displayed to their best advantage and then suddenly felt the loss of her home as a real, physical pain. Without touching any of the pieces, she left the vault. When she came out, dusk was falling and the air became chilly. Jacomo was already starting a fire close to the wall.
"I thought that like this we could sit against the wall, protected from the wind and warmed by the fire," he said, as she climbed out of the hole.
Once the small fire was burning brightly, with sufficient wood supplies close by, they ate the remaining provisions from lunch, leaning against the wall.
"How did you think we should keep watch?" he asked.
"Each of us takes a turn. You want to go first?"
"I’d prefer to go second, but you don’t suggest simply remaining here, do you?"
"No, it would be better to be hidden in those bushes over there." She pointed to a group of trees and undergrowth about sixty feet to the side and slightly above the wall from where one had an unobstructed view of the site and much of the terrace. "Although, it will be chilly. I’ll go as soon as it’s completely dark."
Half an hour later, she took her bow and six arrows — she always carried at least four knives on her — to the bushes. She happened to look toward Monte Cetona, its black silhouette outlined against the dark mauve rim of the sky, when she saw the fleeting vision of a person hurrying across the terrace maybe four hundred feet higher up and disappear in the sparse forest. Already, she wondered and returned to Jacomo.
"There are people higher up."
"What’s your plan?"
"One of the tricks my father once used. We’ll arrange each horse blanket in such a way that it looks like somebody is sleeping underneath. Then we both crawl away to the bushes, and when they come, we pounce."
He smiled. "Sounds like good fun. But what if there are many?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "We’ll see what they look like and how they are armed."
It took them a few minutes to arrange the blankets. Then Jacomo fed the fire again, and they crawled away, sticking to the wall and then following a slight dip in the terrain that was likely to hide them from being seen from above. Once under the bushes, they hid behind a trunk, each having two arrows ready to shoot, with four more in the quiver slung on their back.